


comprehend

by Sir_Mantra



Series: Alphabetical Akaken [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7528339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Mantra/pseuds/Sir_Mantra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he didn’t understand why he went through this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	comprehend

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it's late (by a week)! i'll compensate with another one-shot later in the week
> 
> it seems a little rushed but word limit and all ahh

_good morning kenma. have a good day. i love you_

One eye still closed, Kenma winced at the brightness of his phone as he checked it. Ah. It was a message from Akaashi. That meant it was time to wake up and get ready for early practice.

Kenma rubbed his eyes, a little yawn slipping from his lips, and then he smiled.

_thanks. i love you too_

* * *

_Twelve more hours to go…_

Kenma gave a small sigh, absentmindedly swiping up on his phone to send a troop of minions and goblins to conquer his opponent’s castle. Kuroo wouldn’t be much longer, but it didn’t change the fact that the day was going so slow.

Sometimes he didn’t understand why he went through this.

It was 6:20 am. Akaashi was at early volleyball practice now, all the way in his district, whilst Kenma was still at home. That meant they weren’t able to even _text_ each other because the former was not allowed to take his phone to school. Texting was the only somewhat decent substitute for not being able to see Akaashi or hear his voice. 

_If only he was closer…_

There was a knock on the door. Kenma, begrudgingly, picked up his rucksack and headed to the door.

_Eleven hours and fifty-nine minutes to go…_

* * *

Practice was normal. Lev, despite his frequent failures with spiking the ball successfully, was steadily improving. Yaku even looked a little proud of him, but that quickly changed into an angry expression as Lev made an innocent, yet insensitive, remark, to which Lev gained a swift knee to his thigh. Kuroo just sighed, and the rest of the teammates, bar Fukunaga and himself, laughed.

This was a typical occurrence. That, and Kenma was preoccupied.

He wanted to see him, he wanted to meet him, and yet he couldn’t. It just meant he was that much further away. He could send Akaashi text messages — or maybe he could branch out and write letters as Akaashi often did — and, for a brief moment, they could dispel this anxious feeling.

But the pain always came back full frontal when he received no reply during the day.

He didn’t understand why he carried on doing this.

_Ten more hours to go…_

* * *

“Ah, Kenma, you’re stuck to your DS even more than usual. What’s up?”

“Nothing, Kuroo,” Kenma said, ignoring his teammates’ loud chatter. It was lunch time and it was too hot outside, and really he was not in the mood.

_But there’s only a few more hours to go…_

He tapped quicker on the gamepad.

* * *

After school practice was even more draining than usual. It seemed time had a funny way of slowing down when you were anticipating something.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind! Set again, please!”

Ah. He just missed another ball, huh? Wow, he was _really_ out of it, wasn’t he? Especially if Kuroo was giving him an exasperated, yet sympathetic, look.

 _I don’t understand…_ he thought, attempting to reach the ball to set but, once again, missing it. _Why do I go through all this if it makes me so tired… So much that it’s ruining the team practice…_

“Hoy, Kenma, do you need a break for a sec?”

_No… I just need time to go quicker..._

* * *

The walk home with Kuroo was quiet. Even quieter than usual. Kenma was so tired and he didn’t know why. He didn’t understand much anymore. 

 _Buzz._ Wait. His phone just vibrated. Did that mean…

_thanks for the bath towel. it’s not like you haven’t given me many of them before_

Kenma’s heart stopped. A reply. He replied. Akaashi had _finally_ replied. And it was in response to the accessories he had given to Akaashi on that new RPG game on his DS.

He couldn’t help but laugh under his breath.

_but it’s aesthetic._

_i don’t want my ‘aesthetic’ to be indecent soldiers_

Kenma smiled.

_but they’re fighting for the greater good… just with less clothing. besides you didn’t have to make them all wear the bath towels. you put them on yourself_

_…but it’s aesthetic_

Kenma’s laugh was louder this time, but it was cut short as he abruptly felt his rucksack being pulled back and him shoved into Kuroo’s side.

Stumbling briefly, Kenma immediately shot an accusatory glare at his best friend. Kuroo’s expression was nonchalant — the kind of apathetic yet serious look he had whenever he was trying to sway Kenma’s stubbornness.

“There’s a pole there,” Kuroo said. 

Kenma looked away, frowning as he mumbled, “I know.”

Kuroo’s eyes were trained on Kenma, silently observing his expression to gauge some sort of information that could explain Kenma’s absentmindedness. Recalling Kenma’s earlier quiet laughs and subtle smiles — combined with Kenma’s unwillingness to look Kuroo in the eye — Kuroo then slyly grinned.  

“Ah,” he said, teeth bared. “You’re texting Akaashi, aren’t you?”

Kenma ignored him, tapping at his phone. His fingers were very quick this time, and if Kuroo knew better then he figured Kenma was trying to hide his embarrassment by distracting himself. The specks of red on his cheeks were obvious enough, however.

Still grinning, Kuroo said, “Tell him to stop distracting you during practice.”

“Good bye, Kuroo,” Kenma said, and he walked briskly ahead. Kuroo burst out laughing.

_Only a few more minutes…_

* * *

This was it. The moment he had been waiting for.

Kenma quickly shut his bedroom door behind him, locking it for assured privacy, and loaded his laptop. His mouse automatically clicked on the Skype icon. There, the introductory sound played, and he immediately found the person he was looking for.

Thank _God_. The bubble beside his name was green. He was online.

They could finally, _finally_ see each other. 

Clicking on the Video Call button, Kenma distractedly brushed his curtained hair back with his fingers. He needed to be able to truly see now. It was really important. He needed to push aside his anxious fears of everything — _what if his connection’s lost, what if he’s ignoring me, what if he’s not up to this anymore because we’re just too faraway, what if he doesn’t want to carry on, what if_ — and quash them like a Stoneborn’s fierce fists would. 

Okay, deep breaths. He could do this. It was everything he was waiting for.

“…Ah, Kenma? Are you there?”

Startling, Kenma’s eyes widened and his shoulders hunched into a thin line. Oh _God_ , he was _finally_ here, he was finally able to see his face and hear his voice and _see_ him and — 

“Are you okay, Kenma? You seem a little frightened.”

Kenma shook his head, his once tense shoulders gradually relaxing as a small smile grew on his lips.

“…I-I’m fine, Keiji.” Kenma looked on at his boyfriend, and he had never felt such warmth in his entire life. His heart thrummed against his chest, his hands fidgeted against each other, and he didn’t know where to _really_ look without it being awkward. But his boyfriend was so handsome, with his messy short hair, his calm green eyes, and the little crinkles around his eyes whenever he smiled. He couldn’t see them now (the quality was never too great on Skype), but he remembered them from his last visit, which seemed so, so long ago.

“Good,” Akaashi said, and then he smiled gently. Kenma was taken aback. 

Akaashi, his expression still soft, then whispered, “I’ve missed you, Kenma.”

Kenma suddenly became embarrassed. But instead of looking everywhere else but at Akaashi, he, fighting back a cruel blush and anxious feelings, said, “I’m so happy to see you.”

Akaashi’s gentle smile was to be remembered forever.

They talked for hours on end, each other describing their lives’ events so far since they had last heard. At one point they decided to watch a film together, opting for their favourite movie (well, Kenma’s): ‘Pokemon: The First Movie’. When all was done, Akaashi updated Kenma on the progress of his most recent reading, whereby the protagonist and his friend boarded a train that travelled through the Milky Way. Akaashi read aloud, his voice mellifluous and calm. Kenma couldn’t help it — Akaashi’s voice had always been something else, but when it sounded this relaxing it really soothed him. It was so smooth he felt his eyelids slowly close whilst he rested his head on his pillow.

“…Kenma? Are you awake?”

“Mm,” he hummed into his pillow, adjusting his head into a more comfortable position. Akaashi closed the book quietly, moving closer to the camera as he did so.

“Ah, you’re falling asleep,” he said. His smile was warm. “That’s okay. We’ll talk again tomorrow. Just go to sleep, okay? It’s been a long day.”

Kenma absentmindedly nodded his head, falling deeper and deeper into a slumber. He mumbled a tired “I love you” to Akaashi, and he embraced this warm and relaxed feeling that felt so scarce.

“Sweet dreams, Kenma. I love you too.”

Everything was serene; he had never felt so at peace. He finally understood why he endured all this.

He smiled.


End file.
